This is the last piece that I made for the enCOUNTER show, but he's still living in my kitchen. I feel slightly brave posting this picture, because I am not fond of this work. Even worse, I am not sure why. Is it because it's too literal? Would it have been better if the plant was more like a nineteenth century botanical drawing, and the man based on a vintage male doll, rather than a photograph? Sometimes I try a style that is less cute but often it doesn't work. I'll bet that if I hide this one away then look at it in six months' time I will instantly see exactly what's wrong. Making art is funny like that. (And maybe it's the case for many things in life?)By the way, I have changed him since I took this photo last week. He now has closed eyes and the bottom half of his face is covered by a bud. Didn't help: he just looks weird, like he is stifling a sneeze.
Krokodil was a Soviet satirical magazine which commenced publication in 1922. I found an enormous compendium of 1976 issues at the bookshop in Cook's Hill, Newcastle about six or seven years ago. That particular afternoon the shop was laden with old illustration and art books: I felt in luck but imagined that an old illustrator had died and that I had swooped upon his collection. Whatever the story was, the 5cm thick book was bursting at the seams and came with a carefully written explanation of what it was all about, in a previous generation's careful handwriting, above. And because I don't read cyrillic text either, any help that my slavic background could otherwise give me is useless. So if anyone out there is able and willing to translate some the captions for these, I'd appreciate it! (Mum?)
